At The End of It All
by PCBW
Summary: AU ending to Year Of Hell (JC) Any mistakes are my own!


She knew she was going to die. That much was certain. If she was honest with herself, she knew everyone was going to die.

Scanning the bridge, she took in the carnage set before her: broken bulkheads, seared consoles, frayed wires jaggedly dangling from the ceiling. She never thought it would end this way; foolishly she actually thought her crew would get home. For an indulgent moment she let the fantasy play out in her mind; she could see it all – the triumphant return of the lost ship and her gallant crew. Mothers reunited with sons and daughters; husbands holding close their long lost wives…

The acrid smell of burnt carpet and leather brought her back to the dim reality.

Grounding herself, she inhaled a deeper breath and let the harsh smell of the battered bridge – her battered, precious Voyager – bring her back to this dim reality.

She was alone; death would be a solitary event for Kathryn Janeway. A wry smile played across her singed features as that old notion popped up in her head again; she never thought it would end this way.

No, she shook her head as she scanned the lonely scene in front of her. She naively thought that one day, when all was said and done – when the mission was over and when all the ghosts were laid to rest that there would be someone here to hold her hand; someone to clasp her close as death visited her and ushered her into eternity. That was the idea anyway – first with Justin and then with Mark. But neither of those two men seemed to come to mind. Truth be told – neither of them had really entered her thoughts since her first year in this God-forsaken quadrant. There had only really been one man who she wanted – the one man she wouldn't let herself have.

Chakotay.

His name was like a Siren's song – tempting and assuring. It had been months since he'd disappeared. And ever since that day, she'd been full of regret. Automatically her hand clasped the old timepiece that he'd given her for her birthday. It was so typical of Chakotay to remember something as trivial her birthday even in the midst of a crisis. The cool metal felt familiar in her fingertips as she caressed the worn surface. The watch never left her side since she found it in his quarters; it had been fixed to her hip ever since. It sounded silly, but for some reason it made her feel closer to him – like he wasn't so far away.

Looking to her left, her eyes fixated on Chakotay's chair. When was the last time he'd sat in it? What had they talked about?

She didn't have to exert much imagination to see his face. She'd memorized his features a long time ago; the warmth of his skin, the comforting darkness of his eyes, the elegant lines on his brow. She'd thought of them so many times that they were a part of her. He was a part of her.

Oh how she wished he were here with her! No, not to die; she wouldn't wish that one anyone. But selfishly she wanted him here to hold her, to comfort her, to promise her that they'd meet again.

The cool of her command chair greeted her like the embrace of an old friend. This is where she would die. The command console lit up. Manipulating its flickering lights the view screen scanned and magnified the Time Ship.

Time was up.

/

"What is she doing?!" He saw it all from the control room. Panic set in his veins. Voyager was on a collision course; in 15 minutes both ships would be obliterated.

"Tom!" Chakotay turned around, frantic to find anyone who could help him.

"Chakotay!" Mayhem ruled on the Time Ship; even Anorax had given up, bitterly resigned to his fate.

"Tom can you get me over to Voyager?" He yelled over the chaos as he ran unsteadily towards the younger man.

Tom cursorily ran nimble fingers over the alien controls. He didn't have to ask why he wanted to be there; he knew that all this time Chakotay had been trying to get back to the Captain. "I'll try, Chakotay…" His movements sped up – time was running out. "We have just enough power for one transport!"

"Do it Tom!" He yelled, desperation setting in as the clock's precious second's ticked past.

For a moment the two men's eyes met before the green flash of the transporter carried him away. 'Thank you'.

/

She wound the old watch and sat back as the seconds ticked past. One, two, three…

This was the end; this is how Kathryn Janeway would die. The captain would valiantly go down with her beloved ship.

The hum of the transporter cut through the relative silence of the empty bridge. In a startled second, she was up and out of her chair. For a moment she thought her eyes betrayed her. It was natural, she mused. Yes, it was natural to hallucinate in times of stress. It was logical to see things that weren't really there in order to comfort oneself in the unfamiliar transition from life to death.

"Chakotay?" A battered voice called out.

"Kathryn!" As Voyager moved jaggedly towards the Time Ship, her movements became jerky.

"You're here," was all she could say as he crushed her against his solid warm body. "You're here…"

She was thinner, her collarbones jutting out visible and her ribs clearly palpable against his chest. But she was beautiful. Even amid the scars and the burns, she was breathtaking. "I'm sorry," he whispered into her singed hair. "I'm so sorry."

"I'm sorry," she whispered back against his chest. "I'm sorry for not telling you."

"It's OK," he kissed her hair, the beginnings of large wet tears seeping out from behind closed lids. "I know."

The hull started to rend, the tip of it hitting the Time Ship. The unnatural, sickening sound of grinding metal started to rumble and reverberate against the collapsing hull. "No, Chakotay," she pushed herself away to look at him. "I'm sorry for everything and," she had to say it before it was too late. If these were the last words that she was going to speak she wanted them to be of her love for him. "Chakotay, I love you."

He didn't have to wait to respond so mirrored words tumbled out as she uttered her last syllable, "I love you Kathryn Janeway." The rumbling got louder and the temperature hotter as flames licked the desecrated hull. "We'll be together," he yelled as he clutched her slight form as tightly as he could against the broad expanse of his chest.

She didn't have to look to see the flames rushing towards the bridge to know that time had run out. A quick arm moved celeritously up his chest and pulled his face down to hers and she opened her mouth in a kiss. Tongues met, lips melded, and the world went up in flames.


End file.
